


Family Gathering

by slingzarrowz



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Catharsis, Character Death, F/M, Family, Original Special Operations Squad | Squad Levi, Pain, Romance, Secrets, rivetra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slingzarrowz/pseuds/slingzarrowz
Summary: Months after Petra's death, Levi visits her family home on a final mission. Accompanied by Mikasa, he discovers family tensions of every sort, and faces the past one last time.





	Family Gathering

Levi had not wanted the brat to tag along, but now that she was here he’d decided to make the best of it. Mikasa kept at his side as they wended their way through the city streets, skirting carriages and refusing to look at fruit sellers who swore they had the finest deals on summer melons at half price. Levi made sure to take at least a bit of a lead, if only so the much taller girl would have to shorten her steps. Humanity’s Strongest he might be, but even some teenage girl could overcome him during a late afternoon stroll.

“When we get there, you don’t have to say anything,” he told her.

“Yes, sir.” Her answer was lifeless and rote, as usual.

Tch. If he were being honest with himself, Levi didn’t like this brat. She was too gloomy, knew how to hold a grudge. She didn’t like him, either. Eren’s childhood friend, the one who’d cursed Levi out in the titan forest for letting the boy be taken away.

Letting him. Levi hadn’t _let_ anything. He hadn’t been there. His squad had.

 _She_ had.

The titan had torn its way through them all to get to Eren, left them in pieces.

Left _her_ in pieces.

Ah, but that’d been over two months ago. So much had happened since then. Apparently, the 104th had been crawling with secret titans. Then there’d been the uprising, and a new ruler installed. It’d been two months since Historia had taken the throne. Two months of relative peace.

Two months to reflect.

Two months to miss them.

To miss _her_.

“Why are we making this trip now, Captain?” Mikasa asked. She idly tugged at her red scarf; never took the damn thing off. “It’s been…a while since it was necessary.”

“Her parents were already informed, yes. But we weren’t able to bring the body back.” He’d ordered it— _her_ —thrown from the wagon to lighten its load. He’d seen the golden-red flutter of her hair before the body—before _she_ hit the ground. “Now we have something to give them. It’s only right I do it myself.”

“Why?”

“Because I was her captain. Got somewhere else you need to be? Does Eren have to be tucked in?”

Her scarlet blush was the only indication she’d even heard what he’d said.

“Sorry, Captain _Ackerman_ ,” she replied.

Right. That. They walked alongside each other in silence.

This brand new name, the last vestige he had of Kenny and his mother. The true reason Erwin had set this whole thing up. Erwin could be meddling as a mother hen when he wanted. Since he’d lost his right arm, he apparently had lots of time to sit around and dream up stupid ways to interfere with Levi’s life.

“You’re off on that mission?” Erwin had said when Levi came to take his leave. They did not specify what Levi was doing. It was a delicate balancing act, this outing.

“Mmm.”

“Since the uprising, we’ve had to quell a few disturbances, as you know. Some citizens believe us to be usurpers.”

“Yeah. Idiots.”

“It can be dangerous for you, famous as you are. I’d suggest taking along protection.”

“Erwin, who the hell can possibly protect _me_?”

“Why not take Mikasa Ackerman?” Erwin had hit her last name. Didn’t look up from his apparently absorbing paperwork. “She’s the finest of the new recruits.”

“Ah.”

Levi hadn’t even argued. He’d known it wouldn’t do any good.

Mikasa Ackerman. The _other_ Ackerman. When his surname had finally been revealed, the girl hadn’t batted an eye. Hadn’t treated him any differently. That is to say, she’d gone about taking his orders and obeying him perfectly, all with the warmth and charm of a dead slug. Girl wanted nothing to do with him.

But for Levi, who had lived most of his life without family, finding one other person who shared his name had made him feel tense, a tautened bowstring that had waited thirty years to finally let fly.

Not that he was going to try hugging the brat, or palling around with her. He was no type of man to be a big brother, or cousin, or whatever they were. She was too old to be raised.

Still. It was good…to not be alone.

Not alone, yet lonely. The girl was ice. Eh, so was he. Family trait, maybe.

They turned down a street, leaving the hustle of the boulevard behind. The houses here were quieter, smaller. Laundry hung on a line between units; neighbors gossiped across a low, wonky fence. Children played in a puddle; somewhere, a dog barked. He smelled soup, the thin kind of broth that used the same marrowbone as last Wednesday’s supper.

This was where _she_ came from.

If he looked to the right, he imagined he could catch the glimpse of red-gold hair, hear the few faint notes of her laughter.

He breathed in the air she’d been used to, and it soothed him.

“We’re here,” he muttered, turning up a few uneven stone steps. Mikasa followed him down a brick walkway to the front door of a ramshackle house. The roof was triangular, and thatched with straw. Vegetables grew in a thin plot of land near the side of the house. A barrow, wheels caked in mud, waited alongside a hoe under the porch, where a beam of sunlight illuminated the few iridescent strands of a spider’s web.

Vegetables. She’d told him her father sold vegetables.

 _I would give anything to hear you say the word ‘vegetables’ one last time,_ he thought. Tch, some romantic sentiment.

The front door opened. A man Levi had seen once before, and had hoped never to see again, stepped outside. His round face, lined at the mouth and the eyes, lit up to see the captain. A rough hand extended to shake.

“Captain Levi. Thank you for coming,” Mr. Ral said. The man did not give any indication he remembered their last meeting, the one that had occurred right after his daughter had died on the mission. Right after Levi had ordered her corpse thrown from the wagon, left to rot in the sun. When the Survey Corps came through the city gates, Mr. Ral had approached the captain smiling, looking for his daughter in the procession of wearied survivors. Mr. Ral had wanted to discuss marriage, to tell the captain how his starry-eyed daughter shouldn’t rush into anything with her much-older superior officer. Levi had walked past Mr. Ral without speaking a word. He had not turned when Mr. Ral began shouting Petra’s name, realizing she was not among those returning. He had walked on as he heard the man begin to sob when he realized what had happened.

No, Mr. Ral didn’t bring up any of that.

Levi was grateful.

“Of course, sir. It’s my duty,” he said. Usually, Levi didn’t like to shake hands or talk or perform like some wind-up toy soldier, but this man was Petra’s father. She had spoken fondly of him, her amber eyes softening with such love. Levi could do this one thing for her. Today would be perfect. And brief.

Perfect things were usually brief.

“Please come inside. We’ve made tea.” Mr. Ral turned for the doorway.

“Thank you, we won’t be staying that long. We don’t want to take up too much of your day,” Levi said. Mikasa’s cool gray eyes stared straight ahead. She didn’t know why this was such a fraught meeting for Levi.

Wouldn’t care even if she did know, probably.

“Oh, please. Just for a short while.” The older man’s face seemed to droop. “Her mother… My wife and I have questions, you see.”

The idea of questions made Levi want to claw his own face off, because questions meant talking, and talking about Petra specifically. He was not good at doing any of that. But…

 _Her mother._ Changed it pretty fast to _my wife_ , hadn’t he? Because Mr. Ral remembered that Mrs. Ral was no longer Petra’s mother. No, that duty had ended when the girl died; crushed under a titan’s foot.

_And under my watch._

Dully, Levi nodded.

“Of course, sir.”

Now Mikasa eyed him with the slightest of curious expressions. Levi did not have a reputation for being courteous or obliging. Fuck. Better get this over with. Fifteen minutes was enough time to have a cup of tea, tell a couple of short, nice stories about Petra (about the woman he’d loved and fucked and whom he’d let die) and then go.

Well, first there was the matter of the gift.

Mr. Ral led them inside the house. Levi made sure to wipe his boots thoroughly before he entered, and shot a look at Mikasa to warn her to do the same. His cousin or not, she was not going to shirk cleanliness. Not on his watch.

The house was similar to many of the respectable working class places he’d seen. The front door opened onto a large, wide room that constituted a kitchen, dining, and living room all in one. A worn sofa and two mismatched armchairs congregated near the western window; probably a nice spot for family time at sunset. Family time; sunset; both alien concepts to him growing up.

To the eastern wall, there was the sink and the kitchen window. A fire blazed in the hearth, and Levi could smell something cooking in a large iron pot. Vegetable stew, probably. Carrots in it, maybe.

_“If I never eat a carrot again, it’ll be too soon.” Petra huffed, her arms crossed and her chin propped on top of them. She was lying on Levi’s chest, and they were both naked. His preferred state when they were alone together. “They’re what grows best in our garden, and I can’t stand them. Papa is so proud of them, too.”_

_“Thought carrots were healthy.” He brushed a piece of her red-gold hair from her eyes. “Maybe it’s good you ate so many. Isn’t that where you got your coloring?”_

_“How funny,_ sir. _” She crossed her eyes at him, wrinkled her nose._

_“You getting insubordinate, Ral?” He grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragged her mouth to his. “I got a carrot you can eat as punishment.”_

_She burst out laughing at that, kissing him and giggling at the same time._

_“You shouldn’t compare your dick to a carrot,” she cried, her face buried against his shoulder. “Sir, that’s the worst line in the world.”_

_“That’s it.” He shoved her underneath the covers while she giggled helplessly. “Get to work.”_

“Captain?” Mr. Ral said. “May I introduce my wife, Ingrid?”

Levi snapped back to attention as a middle-aged woman stood up from the dining room table. She nodded to him. Levi found some of Petra in this woman—the wide eyes, snub nose, and delicate build in particular. But Ingrid had pale brown hair and blue eyes; Petra had gotten her golden coloring from her father.

Seemed she’d also gotten her sunny disposition from the man, because Ingrid looked severe as a cold snap in midsummer.

“Thank you for coming all this way, Captain Ackerman.” She beckoned him to sit. Levi nodded at Mikasa to have a seat as well. The four perched around the table, none of them wanting to be there except maybe Mr. Ral. Before Levi, a pot of tea waited, four bone china cups and saucers as well. The good china, probably. The wedding china, back when Mr. Ral had carried his bride across the threshold. Before children, and titans, and the tragic meeting of the two. Before heartbreak. Before a girl with carrot hair and fiery eyes.

Mrs. Ral poured the tea. Levi had to remind himself to hold it by the handle. His preferred style was to grip the rim, but this was going to be an uncomfortable enough fifteen minutes. No need to make it weirder than necessary.

“Captain.” Mr. Ral cleared his throat. “I…I wanted to say how thankful we are that you looked after our Petra. When she told us that she wanted to join the Survey Corps, we. Ah.” The man took a sip of his tea, perhaps to pretend that the tears springing into his eyes came from the steam. “We were pretty scared. It’s so hard, because she was only twenty-one when she passed…still a baby, in a lot of ways. But she lasted three years.” He sniffed. “I know she stayed alive as long as she did because of you, sir. We’ll always be grateful.”

“I’m the one who’s grateful.” The words came easy as teeth pried from his mouth. “She was…a great soldier. Great girl.”

Levi drank his tea, and wondered if he could just throw the gift he’d brought down on the table and bolt. Mikasa sipped, and did not contribute. Wise girl.

“Did you know her?” Ingrid asked Mikasa. Levi noticed the woman was doing her damnedest not to look at him.

“No, ma’am. I just joined the Corps a few months ago. But another Scout, Eren Yeager, knew her. He spoke very highly of her.”

Mikasa smiled, probably didn’t even know it. Shit. So deep in love and she could still afford to be ignorant of her own feelings. Levi did not often envy her youth, but he envied it now.

“Were you there? That day?”

They did not have to specify which the woman meant.

“I was. But I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m sorry.” Mikasa drank her tea again. Kid could be amazingly soft-spoken and civil when she wanted.

Levi felt a bizarre flush of pride at that. Look at him, grabbing for anything to relate to in this hell he’d entered. Memories shouted at him from every corner. Not memories he’d experienced, but ones Petra had told him about. The worn spot on the rug where she’d spent hours twirling when she was eight and thought she wanted to be a professional dancer. The red mixing bowl on the counter, the one she had pretended was a witch’s cauldron, and in which she’d mixed “spells” with Oruo. These walls had contained her childhood, sheltered her until she was ready to be flung out into the world.

But not ready enough. Not enough.

Time to get this over with. Levi reached into his coat, and pulled out the packet. He laid it in front of Mr. Ral, who eyed it with a strange mixture of longing and despair.

“I’m sorry that we weren’t able to bring Petra’s body home. This was hers, though. Erwin Smith, the Survey Corps’s Commander, specifically asked that you take it. He hopes it gives you some comfort.”

Mr. Ral untied the twine with shaking hands. He unwrapped the paper, and took up the badge.

The Wings of Freedom.

(The one Levi had cut off her jacket when her body was laid out on the ground, before they loaded it into the wagon. The badge he’d planned to keep to himself, to hold close to his chest on long, dark nights that would be empty of _her_. The only physical reminder of her he’d ever have, except for that moment he’d found her body smashed against that tree and had descended upon his cable to take her into his arms, knowing the titan was still out there, knowing he had to stop it, knowing he had to find Eren, but unable to take his eyes off her face, her lifeless doll eyes, the blood smeared across her cheek, and as much as he hated to touch dirty things he had pressed his lips to her cooling ones just one final time, one last time, he would never kiss her again and he needed it, needed it so much…)

“Th-Thank you,” the man said. Sniffling, he showed it to his wife, like it was some rare and precious jewel. Ingrid looked less interested. Instead, her eyes fixed coolly on Levi’s face.

“Thank your Commander for us, captain.” So. No thanks to Levi, then. Well, he couldn’t blame her for that. “Though I don’t understand why it took months to get this to us.”

“Ingrid.” Mr. Ral frowned. “These things take time—”

“No. It’s understandable.” Levi returned the woman stare for stare. “There was a mix up. Another soldier thought the badge was his friend’s keepsake. But he figured it out, and returned it.”

Dieter, coming into Levi’s office with tears in his eyes, holding out the badge and placing it on the captain’s desk. “Sir. I know this wasn’t Ivan’s.” He sniffed. “I…I know you meant well, captain. But I want you to give this to whoever was supposed to have it. Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

Levi had hemmed and hawed, but eventually accepted the badge. He’d sat in his chair, stroking the two wings, the white and the black, feeling the bumps of the embroidery. Imagining it back on her jacket. Imagining her turning to face him, the sunlight in her extraordinary hair.

Imagining her corpse’s face bloated and rotted from weeks spent in the hot sun, the eyeballs long gone from a crow’s beak, the lips shriveled and pulled back from her teeth like his mother’s had been—

Levi had decided then and there to return the badge to her family.

“And you know for a fact it was Petra’s?” Ingrid asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How?”

“Because I took it off myself, ma’am.” Levi was not going to lie to this woman’s face. Not after all he’d done.

“I see.” Something moved in Ingrid’s blue eyes. “So you took my daughter’s badge, then lost it, then found it again. That’s nice.”

Mr. Ral huffed and wiped at his brow. The air around the table cooled by a few degrees. There was a question—and an answer—implied in every word from Petra’s mother’s mouth.

_Time to go._

“As I said, the Commander hopes you find comfort in this. I do, too. Petra loved both of you very much; she talked about you a lot. Well.” Levi pushed his chair back and stood. Mikasa rose in silence, and saluted when he did. “Thank you for the tea. If you ever need anything, please—”

“Captain. Don’t go.” Mr. Ral stood. He was smiling, but also visibly trembling. Levi feared the man would collapse and upset the tea things. “Please.”

“It’d be great to stay, but we’re needed back at the barracks. So.” Levi turned, but the man nearly leapt in front of him.

“Did…did you know Petra was named after me?” He gave a weak smile. “Pieter. Petra. We, we named her older brother after my wife’s father. Willem. Ingrid said, ‘the next one’ll be named for you, dear.’ She thought it’d be a boy. Her whole side of the family, nothing but boys. Well, except for her. But when Petra came, the labor was so long that the doctor was certain Ingrid’d never have another baby. She did, of course, our miracle, Brigitta, but…at the time, they thought I wouldn’t want to give a girl my name, but I didn’t see the difference. Petra. She was mine, you understand? That’s what I always thought. The moment they put her in my arms, she smiled at me. She had my cheeks. Heh, my red face too, that’s what Ingrid said.” The man took Levi by the shoulders, mainly to disguise the shaking. “She thought the world of you, sir. You were her hero,” Pieter rasped. “Please. Have supper with us. I can’t…this’ll sound crazy, but when you walk out that door I think the last bit of her will be gone. Would you stay? Please?”

 _Get the fuck out of here._ Levi felt his eyes going deader, the standard reaction when his emotions were starting to boil. But he had left Pieter alone once, weeping and grief-stricken in a crowd. Levi had left him all alone with his pain. He could not do it again.

“Dinner. That’d be great,” Levi muttered.

Mikasa said nothing. In fact, she went straight to Ingrid’s side, cool as a cucumber. _Probably another famous Ral vegetable._

“Would you like me to help with anything, Mrs. Ral?” Mikasa asked.

“Oh, bless you. What a sweet girl.” Ingrid finally had some real warmth in her voice. Levi allowed Pieter to drag him through the room, towards a corridor. Right, the bedrooms. Well, anything to get out of Ingrid’s way. Out of her sight.

“I don’t know if Petra told you, but you were the reason she joined the military,” Pieter said, leading Levi down the hallway. The floorboards creaked beneath their boots, and it was so narrow that even Levi, slight as he was, felt a bit crowded. “We thought she and Oruo—oh, they were friends since they were practically born, I don’t know if you knew—”

“Yeah, I knew.” He tried so hard to keep his voice from its usual grating monotone. He had to pretend to be a normal fucking human tonight. Levi did not like mingling with people at the best of times. After this, he was going to need to lock himself in his office for a few hours and sit alone, just to unwind. “Petra and Oruo were friends. She joined up because of me. That wasn’t the reason I chose them for my squad, of course. Your daughter was a natural. One of the most gifted soldiers I’ve ever seen.” This settled him a bit. He could talk about Petra’s good qualities for fucking hours. There were so many of them. “She was quick, and accurate. Lacked a ton of strength, but she made up for it in how nimble she was. She helped me with more kills than I can count. It’s no easy thing helping me; I’d have to tell her to go sit on the sidelines sometimes, or she’d rush into the battle without question.” Never let Levi go anywhere unaccompanied if she could help it. Always looking out for him. He’d gotten so used to those watchful eyes following him wherever he went. Same way he’d gotten used to her smile, her laugh.

Soon enough, how used he got to her body, the feel and the taste of her. But that was something Pieter did not need to know. The older man beamed as he opened a door.

“She had such a big heart. Helping came so natural to her.” Pieter sniffed, and gestured to a bedroom. Standard girl’s room, with pretty lace curtains at the windows and a few beloved, tattered dolls lined up on a bookshelf.

“Her room?” Levi nearly choked on the word.

“Hers and her sister’s. Brigitta got married ten days ago. She was supposed to be married at the end of May but, er, things happened.”

Yeah. Things. Petra. They happened. Levi touched a doll, traced the tip of a finger along its fading smile.

“Rosie. Mary. Sina,” Levi muttered, almost to himself. “The dolls.”

“Why…yes.” Pieter sounded surprised. “Those were her three favorites. They used to have tea parties, out in the garden.”

_“You don’t want to hear about my tea parties, do you?” Petra wiggled into her pants—they always dressed together at dawn, when he snuck out of her room and back to his own end of the castle. Levi buttoned his shirt, looked for his boots. He’d been so horny last night he hadn’t been as meticulous with his clothing as he usually was._

_“Are you kidding? I grew up in a shitty landfill. Doll tea parties are the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.” Everything about her was fascinating, a relic from a fantasy world of sunlight and cobbled streets and family dinners._

_Petra sighed._

_“I’m so sorry.” She clung to the bedpost, looked at him with those doe eyes of hers. He could get hard just from a look. Levi came to her, wrapped his arm around her waist, kissed her lips. How could she taste so sweet? Was it a cologne, or a toothpaste? Nah, just her._

_“I don’t think I was ever gonna be the doll type, you know. Though I like a good tea party.” He nibbled at her ear, and Petra giggled._

_“Rosie always had to have a strawberry, because it was red. Like her. Also, strawberries are my favorite. Besides, Rose is my middle name. I think that’s why I always liked that goddess the best.” Petra tilted her head back, and kissed him. They kissed for a while, as Levi’s hand rubbed her nipple through the thin material of her shirt and he got more than a little hard. “You know, it’s kind of weird to get aroused while talking about playing with my dolls.”_

_“Yeah, you’re right. Start telling me about your first wet dream,” he whispered, unbuttoning the shirt she had just put back on._

“She told you about them?” Pieter asked.

“Yeah.” Levi glanced around the room, wondering if there was some normal way to ask this man to leave so he could privately drink all this in. Levi would never have such an opportunity again. In this room, he could hold his breath and believe that Petra would walk through that door at any moment. Maybe this was what the Wallists felt when they gathered in praise of the three goddesses.

“Sir, would you wait here? I’ve got something I’d like you to see.” Pieter left, granting Levi his fondest wish without having to be asked. Levi loved this man a bit.

Two beds stood on opposite ends of the room. Levi could tell which was Petra’s just from the folded quilt at the bed’s foot. She’d been feminine, wonderfully so, but not particularly dainty. The soft pink and blue of Brigitta’s bed wasn’t compatible with the fiery girl he’d known. Levi patted the orange and yellow of Petra’s quilt—golden, like she had been. He sat on the bed, listened to the springs sigh beneath his weight.

 _“I used to lie there when I was fifteen and make myself come while I thought about you,” she panted, gripping the back of his head. His hand was between her thighs, fingers slick as he worked her to her climax. “I wanted you…so…oh_ god. _”_

Levi rubbed his eyes and wanted to lie down where she’d once rested her head and go to sleep. Tuck that quilt up to his chin and breathe in the sweetness of this place.

He touched the plaster wall above her headboard, touched the headboard itself. His eyes tracked to where the floor met the wall, and noticed some writing directly behind the bed. Kneeling, Levi narrowed his eyes and saw that someone had drawn a heart in pencil, and written two letters within it: P+O

Petra and Oruo. Not Petra’s handwriting, either.

 _Oruo._ Levi sighed. That poor bastard, scrawling a secret hope like a talisman behind Petra’s bed. Wishing for it to come true. Praying that the little heart would make it so.

Why was everyone such a fucking idiot?

Next, he studied the bookshelves. Fairy stories, obviously. Some of those sweet little romance books they sold for adolescent girls, the kinds with mistaken identities and contrived problems and happy resolutions. Levi’d seen some of the recruits reading those and giggling as he passed through the barracks. Sometimes he wanted to rip those books out of their hands, tear them to shreds. If they wanted that life, what the fuck were they doing in the military?

A painting of a still lake on an autumn day hung over the bookshelf. It was good, even Levi could see that. Which sister had painted it? He wanted to think it’d been Petra’s, painted because she knew the colors would match her hair.

Nothing remained in the closet but an old pair of boots and a skipping rope that hung from the top shelf like a badly tied noose. Levi had the sudden urge to tear this place apart. There was such safety here. Love. Warmth. Family.

 _And you threw it all away, didn’t you, Petra? For what? For a dream? For_ me _?_

That idea made Levi want to throw up. He walked back to the center of the room, and stood there. Closed his eyes. Pictured her opening that door, the bright smile on her lips, some secret happiness bubbling up inside of her. He imagined that she slid into his arms, rested her cheek against his. Murmured in his ear that it was all right.

 _“It’s all right. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not feeling up to it. I just want to be with you.” She kissed him, and snuggled deeper into his arms. Levi rubbed her back, wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. His cheek rested atop the crown of her head, and he kind of wanted to kick his own ass for not being particularly horny tonight. Petra laced her fingers through his, then held out their arms. She pressed her palm against Levi’s, stretched her fingers. “Open your hand.” He obliged her; Petra’s was smaller than his, but not by much. He could just bend the tips of his fingers over hers. Levi_ hmph _ed, but Petra giggled in delight. “It’s amazing how strong you are, considering we’re nearly the same size.”_

 _“Now I’m_ really _not horny,” he grumbled. “Making me feel like a damn china doll.”_

_Petra kissed him, the velvet slip of her tongue against his. Well. He mostly wasn’t horny._

_“But your hands are so rough,” she purred. “I love the calluses on your palms.” She trailed her fingertips across his hands. “I love how they feel on my breasts. I think your hands are the manliest part of you.”_

_Now Levi was pissed that he was too goddamn tired for sex._

_“Manliest_ part _?” he muttered. Petra giggled._

_“Well. One of them.” She stroked his knuckles, the protruding veins along the backs of his hands. Levi’s hands, small as they were, were also rough with violence and increasing age. Petra’s own smooth, pale, youthful hands were soft on his cheek, her palm spread across his chest, fingers playing with hair. He kissed her hand._

_“I don’t want you getting calluses,” he grumbled._

_“So you want me to stop fighting titans and spend all day cleaning?” She wrinkled her nose._

_“Fuck no. First of all, your cleaning’s lackluster at best.” He frowned; this was the one part of their burgeoning relationship he couldn’t stand. “Your dusting technique’s far from perfect. As for waxing—”_

_“Maybe I’m tired,” Petra huffed. He yanked her head back and kissed her for a good full minute. She quieted after that. “Maybe I’m not. But can we stop talking about cleaning?”_

_“Only to say that a good cleaner’s hands are rough as a soldier’s,” he said reverently. Levi thought wistfully of the new lemon and beeswax polish he’d had imported from Trost. He couldn't wait to crack that open, felt a sensuous thrill to even rival stripping Petra naked. “No, I don’t want you to clean, either.”_

_Petra laid her head against his chest._

_“What do you want, then?” she asked._

_“Back in the underground, men like me…they had different types of girls.” Levi rarely spoke to her about his days as a thug. He preferred hearing stories about knocking out Brigitta’s first tooth with a doorknob, or kicking Oruo in the balls accidentally during a childhood wrestling match. Petra’s stories soothed him. But she had always been interested in his old life, so… “Some men, when they get to the top of the black market, they get a whole suite of brothel girls devoted to them, and them alone. Or boys, if they prefer that. No class in that, though. Shitty taste. Shitty men.”_

_“And other men?”_

_“They get a woman. Just one. Not a wife, or a whore. She’s the guy’s woman, he’s her man. They know it’s not a marriage, and don’t expect it.” Levi tried to keep his voice from trembling on the word ‘marriage.’ He’d told Petra on their third night together that he could not provide that for her; it was a promise no one in their line of work could keep. Didn’t want her to think he was taking advantage, but she’d assured him she understood. “But…his woman…she’s given a house, and she can clean or cook if she wants, but it’s more about comfort. Sex, yeah, but just being there. Her man brings her everything she wants and needs, and she accepts it, and him. It’s…kinda nice.”_

_“And what about a woman who makes it to the top of the black market?” Petra’s lashes batted against his cheek. “Does she keep a man?”_

_“Women who’re smart enough to make it to the top of the market are smart enough to get out of the underground,” Levi said drily. “Most men never figure out that final step.”_

_“So the woman isn’t a wife, and she isn’t a whore. She’s a lover?”_

_“Yeah, but more than that. She’s the other half of his business, and he’s the other half of hers.” Levi stroked Petra, kissed her forehead. She was so cozy in his arms. He’d never known coziness before her._

_“It sounds like a marriage,” she whispered._

_“I can’t make you my wife, Petra,” he rasped, lips tracing the soft plane of her cheek. “But if you were my woman, pretty sure I’d be a decent man for you.”_

_She nuzzled against him._

_“If I were your woman, I’d still want to be a soldier,” she murmured. Ah, wouldn’t it be easier if she’d just stay behind the walls and keep his bed warm? But Levi found himself smiling._

_“We’re modern assholes in the Survey Corps. Lot of soldiers are women.”_

_“But not_ your _woman, right?”_

_“My woman is definitely a soldier,” he growled, gripping her hair and tilting her head back, his lips on hers. Petra groaned against him as he stole kiss after kiss until he’d had his fill. “I’m yours if you’re mine, Petra. So. Do you think it’ll work?”_

_Levi’s heart was racing now, but he kept his features controlled. Petra looked up at him with the shimmer of tears in her exquisite eyes._

_“I do,” she whispered._

“Captain?” Pieter knocked on the doorframe and entered, smiling nervously with an envelope in his hands. “Am I disturbing?”

“No.” How long had Levi been standing in one spot staring into space? Fuck, maybe he needed out of this room. Too many fucking memories. He took the envelope, frowned. He recognized Petra’s looping, delicate handwriting on the front. Addressed to her father. “Thanks. Er, what’s this?”

“Do you remember the last time we…” Pieter coughed. “The…first time we met? After—”

“I remember,” Levi grunted. Difficult to forget.

“I told you Petra had sent me a letter saying how pleased she was to serve on your squad. I thought you might like to see it. I know, er, that I had some…some ideas about the pair of you based on what she said.” Pieter laughed there, an odd relief in his voice. “It was silly, I know. Anyway, I thought you might want to see the wonderful things she said about you. You really were her hero, Captain.”

“Ah.” Levi hoped that his hands would not tremble and give him away. He forced himself not to stroke the envelope, or linger over opening it. These words—Levi had never been a word guy, but…but these were her last words. The last he would ever read. “Thanks.”

He was spared from having to open it in Pieter’s presence by the commotion of voices in the living room. Another man’s voice boomed, and Levi heard Ingrid making a pleasant fuss over something. Pieter left; Levi tucked the letter into his breast pocket and followed. There would be time later.

“Willem! My boy, what’re you doing here?” Pieter entered the kitchen, and found another man standing there. Levi watched the two embrace, clap each other on the back in the way of affectionate men.

“Papa, I heard that…” The young man, Willem, found Levi. He lifted an eyebrow. “So it’s true.”

There was nothing of Petra in this young man’s face. He had his father’s stout, strong appearance and his mother’s coloring. Willem’s icy blue eyes scanned Levi. The Ral men’s faces didn’t lend themselves well towards expressing emotion, but Levi caught the distinct flash of a grimace.

“Captain Levi?” Willem asked. “So. You came.”

“I did. You must be Petra’s brother.” Levi noticed Willem wince at his sister’s name. “Good to meet you.”

“Mmm.” The man thinned his lips and sat down at the dining room table, hands clasped together. He had the rolled sleeves and sunburned cheeks of a market stall keeper. Like father, like son. Well, except for the good manners thing.

“Will. Look. Look what the captain brought us.” Pieter pulled out a chair and displayed Petra’s badge. That at least got some attention from the other man.

So. Mother and son were not pleased to have him here. Levi wondered if excusing himself would be possible. Until he saw Mikasa.

The girl busied herself about the kitchen alongside Mrs. Ral, helping to carry plates and set the table, arranging knives and forks and spoons in their proper places, folding napkins with an almost dainty grace. Levi watched her work with some bemusement; it was like watching some great, predatory wolf curl up on a living room rug and go to sleep. The girl was quiet as a shadow and twice as obedient, washing up and stirring pots and neatening linen with a sure hand.

 _She wasn’t always a bruiser. Hell, looks to me like she likes this domestic routine._ Levi had the idea then of Mikasa helping with housework, a good and dutiful little daughter. They shared blood, but she didn’t have his abnormal brain. Mikasa could be happy in any little neighborhood with a wonky fence and people she loved to come home to.

She smiled gently as Ingrid patted her cheek, the one with the scar. Ingrid fussed over it, and Mikasa spoke with a softness he had not heard before. She carried a steaming tureen of stew to the table, and filled water glasses.

Mikasa liked it here.

Well, fuck if she liked it, because this was the most uncomfortable place he’d ever been trapped in and they needed to get the hell back to the barracks.

He wanted to say those words, but he could not.

One dinner, for Pieter and Mikasa. For Petra. He could handle another half an hour, and then they’d leave. No room for dessert.

“Everyone to the table,” Ingrid said. She brushed a hand through her son’s hair and squeezed his shoulder. He gripped her hand in return, and their identical blue gazes met. Yeah, Levi was the outsider. The bearer of shitty news. Pieter thought his family was fine with the captain’s presence. He was alone in that.

Levi sat next to Mikasa on one end of the table, Willem glowering at him on the other side. Ingrid was at the right end, Pieter the left. Pieter ladled vegetable stew in a rich, savory broth into everyone’s bowl, and Ingrid cut some crusty brown bread with a knife, handing generous slices to everyone in turn. A pat of salted butter was passed around. The Rals ate well. Not like kings, but there was no fear here about where the next meal would come from. Levi would have guessed that before he came. Petra’s behavior had always been generous and assured; any kid who’d gone hungry more often than not could not behave that way.

“Thanks,” Levi grunted, tearing a piece of bread and dunking it in the stew. “This looks great.” He ate. It was, indeed, great.

“How old are you, dear?” Ingrid smiled at Mikasa, the corners of her eyes crinkling. Dear. Heh. The woman was looking to mother.

“Fifteen, ma’am.”

“Fifteen. My Petra was your age when she began training. Fifteen is too young to be away from your mother.” Ingrid sniffed, threw a glare at Levi. “Is your mother all right with you working in such a dangerous job?”

“My mother died when I was nine, ma’am.” Mikasa’s answer was easy, no tension, no bitterness. She took a bite of stew. Yeah. Levi’d heard about that. Murderous fucks had targeted Mikasa’s family for their “exotic” women. He couldn’t help the muscle that ticked in his jaw.

“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry.” Ingrid’s hand fluttered to her mouth.

“It’s fine, ma’am. You couldn’t know.” Poised and solemn, that kid.

“That’s so… I’m so sorry.” Ingrid’s eyes filled with tears. She made a couple of noises deep in her throat, like she was about to throw up. She turned from them, towards Willem, and put a napkin to her mouth. “The horrible things…children go through in this world,” she said, halfway into a sob. Levi put his spoon down. Mikasa furrowed her brow and leaned forward.

“Ma’am? It’s all right.”

“Ingrid.” Pieter began to rise, looking shocked. Willem rubbed his mother’s shoulder, leaned in and whispered a few things that Levi couldn’t catch. And he, Levi, sat there not knowing what the fuck to do. Sit and stare blankly, that was his answer to most things. Tell a joke? What joke? All his jokes ended with people shitting themselves. That wouldn’t help.

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay,” Willem whispered, and Ingrid waved her hand in his face. She sat up straight, breathing evenly again. Her eyes were red, but clear.

“Excuse me. Everyone continue eating. That was… Excuse me.” She took a bite of carrot as though nothing had happened. Mikasa and Levi shared the slightest knowing look.

Maybe the brat wanted nothing to do with him, but right now they were the most normal thing in each other’s orbit.

“My mother’s had a rough time,” Willem said, his ice gaze pinned to Levi. “Since we couldn’t have a real funeral.”

_Petra’s body flying through the air on his orders, striking the ground. Left to rot in the sun._

“Hope you like the headstone, at least.”

Even as the words came out, Levi knew it was a bad response but he didn’t know what else to say to that shit. Willem’s nostrils flared. Ingrid dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. Pieter cleared his throat, his naturally florid face turning redder and redder.

“It’s good, yes, thank you, Captain. Even if there’s nothing…er, nothing in it, it’s more for the living than the dead. Yes? What’s important is the memories. We visit once a week in, in the military cemetery. Don’t we, Ingrid? Isn’t that nice?”

“Papa, you don’t have to make _him_ feel more comfortable,” Willem muttered. No. No, there was no resemblance between Petra and her brother at all. Which was good, because Levi might’ve found it hard to dislike someone with Petra’s face.

He could’ve said something snide about a grown man calling his father Papa, but this was Petra’s family. Petra’s home. A home where grown children called their father Papa and their childhood bedrooms were treated like shrines. Levi closed his eyes and saw her face, eyes wide with hope. Hope that if he couldn’t keep her alive, he could at least keep her family from collectively bursting into tears with his mere fucking presence.

“Captain. Please. Tell us a story about Petra. Something…something that was fun? Were she and Oruo a handful?” Pieter clucked his tongue. “Always fighting, those two. Like an old married couple!”

“We always thought Oruo and Petra would get married.” Willem said it without a trace of humor or warmth. “That was the plan.”

_Well, plans change you little fuckhead._

“Mmm,” Levi said instead. “Er.” Story. Tell a story. With words. Find at least a few words and put them together to make these people smile. If Erwin were here, the Rals would be charmed within a few minutes. Happy stories. Happy stories that didn’t involve their daughter and sister riding Levi’s brains out and screaming her orgasms. He had to have at least a few.

At least one.

Come the fuck on.

“Petra…liked the horses.”

“She always wanted a horse when she was a little girl.” Pieter’s damn face lit up.

“Yeah. Hers was…white. Or gray. Or white. Or some shi—some stuff like that. Uh.” He was melting down. He could not think. Levi hated talking when he didn’t have to, and talking about emotional, cute shit to a small crowd of people made his head hurt. “She named my horse. My horse liked apples, so she said ‘you should name her Apples.’ I couldn’t think of anything else to call her, so I called her Apples. Yeah.”

The whole family regarded him with blank stares. Pieter’s at least was polite. Levi got the sense Mikasa was gazing at him from the corner of her eye in muted shock.

“What about her and Oruo? Did they give you a hard time? Was Oruo…?”

_Oruo loved your daughter but she didn’t love him back. She fucked me when she should’ve fucked him, and then he had to watch her die before he tried to avenge her and failed. Then he got smeared against a tree._

“Oruo was…fine.” Silence. “He was funny, I guess. He, uh, he and I weren’t too close.”

“You were close to my sister, though. Right?” Every word out of Willem sounded like an interrogation for murder. “Papa said you took her badge. You must’ve been close.”

“Yeah. Your sister was closer to me than Oruo was.” Levi had to work really hard not to add any swears. That was getting harder and harder to manage. “Petra was like that. She was a very warm, sweet girl.”

“The only girl on your squad, right?” Willem rubbed his chin. “That’s a special position. You must’ve seen something in her you liked.”

There was no denying that tone.

“You want to say something to me?” Levi asked.

“Do you think I want to say something? Why would you think that?” Their gazes locked.

“Willem. Stop,” Pieter choked. He looked amazed. “Wh-what are you doing? This is our guest! He’s your sister’s—he was your sister’s captain.”

“Right. Her captain.” Willem leaned back in his chair, drummed his fingers on the table. “Her _captain._ ”

Pieter. If it were not for Pieter, Levi would drag this brat out the door and throw him into the mud next to the wheelbarrow. But Levi would not fuck this poor old man’s life up harder than he already had. Instead, he took a spoonful of stew. He could taste nothing.

“Captain Levi. I’m…I’m sorry.” Pieter hung his head slightly, wiped his face with a handkerchief. “My son’s very upset, you know. So’s my wife. This is my fault. I wanted this to be easy, but…I know what happened to my daughter upset you. It upset all of us, and here I am asking you to perform for us. It’s wrong of me. I’m sorry, sir. Please, accept my apology.”

Levi watched this man with his thinning gold-red hair and his beet red face as he bowed his head in shame. Fuck. Fuck, Levi needed to do something. Not sit here silent, not like when he’d walked wordlessly past Pieter and let him discover for himself that his precious daughter would never come home again.

“Petra. Petra.” Levi shut his eyes for a second. There she was in the blackness, gazing at him with such tender sorrow. Petra in battle, Petra in bed, those were all he saw…all he could remember… But she’d been more than that, more than a soldier or a lover. Funny girl, sweet girl, bad-tempered girl, a girl quick to forgive.

In the kitchen. He’d entered to find her…

The thought popped into his head at last, a crumb of mercy.

“She tried making a surprise for the squad one time.” And then Levi felt himself almost begin to smile. “It was a mess.”

 _“The hell, Ral?” Levi stood in the kitchen, staring at a glob of…_ something _sticking underneath his boot. “What’d you do in here? This place is a fucking mess.”_

_Petra stood by the stove, head downturned and face scarlet red. Only three weeks on his team, and already the kid had turned the kitchen into a disaster zone. Levi had often found himself attracted to this new little redhead, but right now his lust was on the back burner. She’d wrecked the place. Globs of this pale-colored sludge had trailed all across the kitchen floor. The mixing bowl she’d been using sat on the counter in a puddle of goo, some of which was dripping along the cabinet. The stove…he didn’t want to get started on the damn stove._

_“I’m sorry, Captain. I wanted to…” She muttered the last of that. He couldn’t catch it._

_“What?” he barked. She flinched._

_“It was our day off, so I wanted to make pancakes for everyone. My mother used to have a wonderful recipe. I thought I could remember it all, but…apparently not. There was…more batter than I thought there’d be. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get it cleaned up, I swear. If you could just, maybe, go upstairs? I’ll…”_

_“Who the fuck wants pancakes? This is the military, Ral, not some cutsey clubhouse.”_

_Then Petra’s flush deepened, and her eyes sparked as she looked up. Temper. This girl had a temper. “Our next mission beyond the walls is in a week. You never know which mission is your last. I just wanted to make something nice for the guys. You don’t have to eat any, sir. I know where the mop is, so if you’ll just leave the kitchen I’ll clean up. But you don’t have to call this “cute.” If Eld had decided to make pancakes, would you use that word? I don’t think you would!”_

_They stared each other down a second, Levi a bit dumb with shock. He’d been an asshole many times in his life, but he always thought of himself as an equal opportunity asshole. Didn’t belittle girls for being, well, girly. That was him, right?_

_Eh. Maybe she had a point._

_“You could get the brig for insubordination, you know,” he said quietly._

_“Yes, sir. I understand.” Her eyes dropped, but she squared her jaw. “That doesn’t mean what I said was wrong, though. Does it?”_

_Levi was the last man in the world to chew someone out for insubordination. He wasn’t a damn hypocrite._

_“Well. Since it’s the day off, I’ll go easy on you.” He turned up his sleeves. “Find the mop, and we’ll get to work.”_

_“Sir?” She jolted in shock._

_“Ral. That’s an order.” No arguing with him. She jumped to it, got the mop and bucket. Took him only a short time before the kitchen floor was clean enough to see your face. Levi breathed deeply at that; he always got pissy when he saw mess. Eh, maybe he’d been too hard on the girl, but clutter made him think of the underground, and that put him in a shitass mood._

_Petra cleaned the counter, and sighed. She looked at the ingredients she’d cobbled together—eggs, flour, milk._

_“I know I used too many eggs. It’s outside the budget. I’m sorry, sir.”_

_“Yeah. Next time, you clear this with me. Got it? We don’t have a lotta luxuries in the Corps. You should know that by now.”_

_Petra’s blush deepened. She nodded. Eh, he shouldn’t make her feel like a damn criminal._

_“I’ll square it with Erwin this time. Watch.” He pulled the bowl over, and deftly cracked a couple eggs. Putting them aside, he got the flour and the milk, while Petra watched as if he’d suddenly turned a shade of blue and sprouted wings. Mouth open, eyes wide._

_“Sir? I can—”_

_“You can’t, Ral, or you would’ve done it right the first time.” Levi had no fucking patience for multiple mistakes. You learned fast, or you stopped trying._

_She bristled again. Girl bristled easily._

_“I know what I did wrong. I used too much flour. Please.” She slid the bowl away. If this turned into a fucking fight over batter, Levi’s world had gotten infinitely more bizarre._

This is why I didn’t want a squad. You’ve got to live with each other.

_Levi liked his private space._

_“Or…we could do it together, if you like?” she murmured._

_He had a blunt answer for her, but it died. She blinked up at him, those big amber eyes just… Fuck, he was a sucker for those eyes._

_“Fine. Don’t mess up again.”_

_She pouted and frowned, but turned to her work, whisking the contents with a firm, almost angry hand. That was the key to gearing Petra up. Whenever he caught her getting tired in training, or relying on a lazy technique, he just had to tell her not to mess up again and she’d get that fire in her eyes._

_She didn’t mess up again. Working fast, side by side, they mixed the batter and poured it cleanly onto the sizzling pan. Levi grunted in satisfaction to see the cakes without lumps, none bigger or smaller than the rest. He liked order whenever he could find it._

_“I didn’t think you’d know how to make pancakes, sir,” Petra said quietly. He slid another few onto a plate._

_“Back in…a while ago,” he corrected, not wanting to talk about his underground days, “there was this brat who…her name was Isabel. She was about your height, your size, but you couldn’t put enough food on the table to make her happy. Kid could eat more than three grown men together.”_

_He thought of Isabel, which he tried not to do often. Those pigtails, those enormous eyes, the smirking, shit-eating grin. “I have the best brother_ ever _!” she’d crow when she was younger, when Levi’d first found her and had learned to make pancakes because she liked those best. Hard to get eggs in the underground, but Levi was good at getting what he wanted. Had to fatten the kid up; she’d been malnourished when he plucked her out of a junkyard. Levi hadn’t smiled at her, would only occasionally muss up her hair to show affection. He didn’t like to be hugged or touched, which she learned fast. Sometimes being called her big brother made him roll his eyes, but he got past that._

_“So you’d cook for Isabel?” Petra sounded curious, but was being obvious about not showing it. “I didn’t know you could cook.”_

_“Where I come from, you take care of your own shit.” Levi would’ve loved someone to cook and look after his life for him, but between a whore mother and a murderous whatever-Kenny-was, he’d fended for himself. “Anyway, don’t expect anything fucking fancy.”_

_“Where’s Isabel now?”_

_“Not here,” he said bluntly, and blew out the flame on the stove. Wiping his hands on a towel, he sniffed._

_“Sorry, sir.”_

_“’S fine. Better brew some coffee, Ral. Those slugs should be down soon.” Petra rose with the dawn. Levi rarely slept, so he was awake more often than not. He paused, studied her profile in the morning light. The sun haloed her golden-red hair. “She’d be about your age now, Isabel. Maybe a couple years older. You kinda remind me of her. Small. Red hair. Fiery. Both a couple of strong-willed brats.”_

_“Yes, sir.” He saw her deflate a little at that. Probably hated to be compared to a kid._

Or maybe she doesn’t want to be treated like a kid sister. Wants you to treat her like a woman.

_Fuck, that thought thrilled and terrified him equally. Levi cleared his throat, sat at the head of the table. There it was, the banging of the other squad members as they came down the stairs and entered the kitchen, yawning. Eld, Gunther, Oruo; still boys, in a lot of ways. They were all rounding the corner on twenty-one. What’d he have in common with these children?_

_But he liked them. Strange, to have a bunch of fucking kids running around in his business all the time, and to like it._

_He shouldn’t get too attached, but ah well._

_“What’s this? Pancakes?” Eld whistled, grabbed one up. He folded it like a sandwich and crammed it into his mouth. His eyes rolled back. “Aw! Tho goo.”_

_“Oi!” Levi snapped. The boys shot to attention while Petra busied herself with the coffee. “Ral made that for you. Thank her, then maybe one of you slugs can take over brewing the coffee. She’s done enough.” Sniffing, he raised an eyebrow. “And someone better volunteer to clean up right now. She’s not doing it.”_

_“Sorry, sir.” Eld looked calm and grave; never got flustered when Levi scolded him. As he took the pancakes to the table, Gunther silently set the places. Classic Gunther: the guy never had to be told anything. He anticipated all needs. Oruo leaned against the counter and stared at Petra as she took her place next to Levi._

_“Well, Petra. Keep this up, and you’ll be ready to become my wife before you know it!” He yawned, didn’t cover his mouth._

_“Oruo?” Petra smiled sweetly. “Shut up. Also, you’re cleaning the dishes.”_

_While Oruo squawked about this, Petra grinned at Levi. Her eyes asked the question ‘why did you give me all the credit?’_

_Levi didn’t quite have an answer for that. When everyone was seated, cups of steaming coffee and filled plates, Petra cleared her throat._

_“I made this because we’re about to go beyond the walls as a team for the first time. So.” She held out her mug. “Cheers!”_

_The others said cheers, clinked mugs. Levi sat there, not wanting to get involved in this snuggly team shit. But Petra’s hurt eyes met his. He found he could not deprive her of anything, so he compromised. Lifting his mug, he grunted. That was enough._

_They all drank and ate together._

“She told Oruo to shut up, did she?” Pieter chuckled, real delight on his face. “Oh, those two. Just like when they were kids.”

“Yeah.” Levi had told the story well enough. He’d done it.

“Petra loved making things special for other people.”

“She did.” Levi’s mouth quirked at that. “She always found little presents for the guys on their birthdays. It’s…it’s hard to explain, but she wasn’t just “our girl” you know? She was somehow the bravest on the squad, but also the sweetest. I can’t explain…”

“Brave and sweet. And temperamental.” Pieter laughed, real joy in his voice. Mikasa smiled to hear it. Good. Good. “Ingrid, remember the time when—”

“Did you fuck my sister?” Willem asked, voice trembling with rage.

All the good will broke like a pane of glass.

Levi could not think, or speak. But he could not deny it. He sat there, staring in shock at this piece of shit across from him. Willem’s chin quivered.

“Willem,” Pieter breathed.

“Answer me. Were you fucking her?” the young man barked.

Levi did not respond, but that was all the answer Willem needed. He laughed, a mirthless noise.

Ingrid began to weep. Fuck.

“I knew it,” Willem muttered. “Knew it.”

“How… _dare_ you?” Pieter got to his feet, hands braced on the table. Another man might have boomed, but Pieter Ral was too good-natured and gentle to do so. He bleated. “How dare you accuse your sister of something so…disgusting?”

Levi might’ve stayed silent if the man hadn’t acted like Petra had dirtied herself. He blinked.

“Yes,” he said. Pieter sat down, deflating, and Levi stared Willem in the eye. “But you’ve got it wrong.”

“How?” Willem growled.

How had Levi described it to Erwin? It hadn’t been fucking; it’d been more than physical.

“We were lovers,” he grunted.

Pieter began making noises like he’d been struck in the stomach. Ingrid stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Somewhere within these walls, Levi could hear her sobbing.

“Okay.” Willem’s voice was high; tears trembled in his gaze. “So you think it’s normal that some old guy starts fucking a young girl, and then lets her die under his watch? You think that’s love, you sick _fuck_?”

On Levi’s signal, Mikasa stood. The girl stared at him, though she displayed no emotion. She saluted when Levi did; she was the perfect soldier, after all. Emotions got in the way of duty.

“You can think whatever you want about me. Mr. Ral, if you need anything, you’re allowed to write to—”

“So that’s it? You’re gonna wreck all of this, and then just walk out? I guess that’s sort of what you do,” Willem growled, storming around to stand before Levi. The hairs on his neck began to rise; red started flashing in his vision. Willem did not know the beast he was baiting.

“Look, kid. If you want to make me the bad guy, you fucking go ahead. But don’t act like Petra was some lost little kid I used and abandoned. Your sister was one of the strongest, bravest people I have ever met, but soldiers die. That’s what happens. Every choice she made was hers. She didn’t regret choosing to be with me. Don’t you start talking like she weak.”

_Or I’ll cave your fucking nose in._

“You ruined our lives.” Willem was openly blubbering now; there was something so unsettling about watching grown men cry. “She never thought about joining the military until she saw you. For days after, you were all she could talk about. There was a plan. She was gonna marry Oruo, they were gonna stay in the neighborhood, have a family. You ruined it all. She ran off to chase you. Oruo’s dead because of her. Because of you. She was just selfish. She always was; Papa spoiled her rotten. Never told her she couldn’t have everything she wanted. Petra never thought about what this’d do to her family. She wanted to fuck you, so she was gonna make that happen. You never gave a shit about her! One girl dies, and you replace her.” Willem eyed Mikasa with an unsubtle look. Levi’s vision fractured. “Oruo only joined to protect her, and look what happened! You ever visit Oruo’s family? His mother had a stroke after she found out! She’s got a bunch of little kids who don’t really have a mother anymore. It’s your fault, you bastard!” Levi took it, let it settle on his shoulders. Why not? It was all his burden anyway. “But you wouldn’t visit Oruo’s family because you didn’t fuck him. He loved Petra, but she was too spoiled to be grateful! She had to have you, she had to have her career! She didn’t give a shit how many people she ruined on the way! That little _slut_ —”

Willem’s feet left the ground as Levi gripped him by the collar, swung him head over heels, and body slammed him to the floor. The windows rattled with the impact. Was Pieter shouting? Was Ingrid? Levi merely kept his foot pressed to the shitty young man’s throat. Willem wheezed, clutched at Levi’s ankle. Unbridled fear shone in his eyes as Levi leaned down and growled.

“You call me anything you want, shitbird, but if you ever call your sister a slut again I’ll come back here and finish this job. Hear me?” He got in Willem’s face. “I don’t want to kill another of your parents’ kids.”

Willem paled, and gurgled. Light, ineffective blows rained upon Levi’s back.

“Get away from him! Get away!” Ingrid sobbed as Levi released Willem. The woman continued striking Levi, as painful as if he were being slapped with cotton. “You monster. You freak. This poor girl.” Ingrid stopped whacking him and turned to Mikasa. “Sweetheart, do you see what this man is? Don’t let him do to you what he did to my Petra.”

Like Levi was some notorious rake. Telling the Rals their daughter had been his first and only sexual partner likely wouldn’t help.

Mikasa came over and gently took Mrs. Ral’s hands.

“The captain is my cousin,” she said. “You have the wrong idea. We’re blood.”

Ingrid burst into hysterical tears at that, and laid her head against Mikasa’s shoulder. The girl pressed a soothing hand against the back of the woman’s neck.

Levi had never heard Mikasa acknowledge the relation before. It kind of stunned him.

“And you’re wrong about the captain.” She turned cool gray eyes to Willem. “After your sister was killed, we went after the titan who murdered her together. He couldn’t kill it, but he sliced it by himself so badly that it couldn’t move. I know he was angry. He got injured fighting it because of me. I tried to kill it myself; he shoved me to safety, and broke his leg. He cares about all his men. I know he cared about your sister.”

Willem stood there like a lump, tears streaming down his cheeks. Pieter. Levi looked to the old man, who now sat quietly with his daughter’s badge in his hands.

Levi had irredeemably fucked everything up. With Willem’s help, sure. But…

This was why he didn’t talk to people if he could help it.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to Mr. Ral. Pieter did not look up. “Mikasa. Let’s go.”

Mikasa followed him out the door, to the little gate. The cool evening air struck his hot skin, made him shiver. He felt like he was running a damn fever. Mikasa walked out first, and he followed—

“Captain! Wait!”

Levi turned, found Pieter rushing after him. The old man stood before Levi, but there was no rage in his eyes. Only emptiness.

“Willem’s wrong. Pet was a good girl.” He blinked, trying to make sense of his good daughter sleeping with her superior officer. Good girls didn’t do that, apparently.

“Your daughter was a good woman,” Levi answered. “She lived the life she wanted. Not everyone gets to say that.”

“No. That’s true.” Pieter sniffed. “You loved her, then?”

A question that Levi knew the answer to, knew in his bones. He did not speak the word.

“Never mind, never mind. Not my business.” Pieter sighed. Levi remembered something, pulled the letter out of his pocket.

“Here. Never got a chance to read it, but—”

“Please. Keep it.” Pieter pushed the letter away. “I’d like you to have something of her. Besides, knowing things now, it…it’d be hard for me to read it again.” He smiled weakly. “We have her badge. That’s enough.” Poor Pieter; the man seemed to have aged another ten years in the last hour. Levi hated himself for that.

“Thanks. Er, Mr. Ral.” Levi sorted his thoughts. “Petra talked about you a lot. She told me about…the day she said she wanted to join the military. Said that of all her family, you didn’t get mad. You took her outside to this gate. You told her that no matter where she went, she could always know you were proud of her, and she always had a home.” Yes, she’d told him that once, lying in his arms. He’d loved asking her questions about her life. Petra’s eyes had lit up at this story. “She said she knew you were scared, but you said you wanted her to have what she wanted.” The next words stuck in his throat, but he dislodged them. “ _You_ were her hero, sir.”

Pieter wept then. His face crumpled, and he sobbed as he had the day he’d learned his daughter was dead. His shoulders shook, and he clutched Levi to him. Levi did not hug him back, or say anything. Normally, he would’ve shoved away from this guy, but this was the price he paid. The least he could do. He was wood in the man’s embrace, and looked up to the stars waiting for the contact to be over. When Pieter had his fill, he released the captain, dusted the front of his uniform.

“Forgive me. Forgive me.”

Levi left then, and did not look back. The man continued weeping behind him. Mikasa at his side, they turned back onto the boulevard and headed for home.

The lamps had been lit, turning the streets into flickering shadow plays. They hit the high street, made a right. They passed shops and bars, the smell of fresh bread seasoning the air.

“You get enough to eat?” Levi grunted.

“Yes, sir,” Mikasa said lifelessly.

“Liar.” He stopped them outside a tavern. There might be stew inside, with meat if they were lucky. “Come on.”

Soon they were seated at a table, Mikasa with her bowl of stew, Levi a cup of black tea. He watched his reflection in the window while she ate. Neither said a word. One of the family traits he liked most.

“Look. You don’t talk about what happened tonight to any of your friends. Not Eren. Not the blond brat. Not the potato girl. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Levi inhaled through his nose. “But if you want to ask me anything right now, you can.”

“Anything, sir?”

“Cut out the sir shit. We’re blood, like you said. Only don’t start calling me cousin or crap like that, right? Go on.”

Mikasa laid her spoon against the side of her bowl. She looked at him, those too-serious eyes of hers as flat and calm as twin lakes under a cloudy sky.

“If you loved her, why did you leave her alone in the forest?”

Ah, the question he’d asked himself over and over again and again in the night, sometimes after he’d jerked himself off while whispering Petra’s name. He’d had a lot of practice getting that answer.

“We were going to tell Erwin after the mission. She would’ve changed squads, probably.”

“Why did you leave her alone?”

For a second he wanted to turn the table over, but it was a fair thing to ask twice.

“There were things we didn’t know about the Female Titan. We didn’t know she’d escape, or that she’d be able to change forms again so soon. Petra and the squad didn’t know how truly dangerous she was, or they’d have run, not turned and fought.” If they’d just done damage to her eyes and cut like hell through the forest, they all would’ve lived. They would’ve lived if they’d known they could not kill her. “Bad timing, not enough information. If I’d known that the danger was that high…”

His voice trailed off, because if Erwin had ordered him to leave them, Levi would have. That was the pull Erwin Smith had over him, the irresistible force. Petra, the only woman he had ever cherished, would always have died if Erwin wanted it that way. Levi had an abnormal brain. He was sick, but he was what he was.

“But,” Levi croaked. “That’s just…how things happen sometimes. If I’d known then what I know now, I’d have had her stay close by me. The others could’ve…”

But he would not have been able to pluck Petra from the crew and leave the rest. He’d cared for all of them, even fucking Oruo. Save one, he’d have to save them all.

“I see.”

“Take it you don’t approve of me?”

Mikasa’s gaze did not waver. “No.”

“Okay. Can I ask why?” He was not angry.

“People we love are fragile. There are only so many of them.” Her gaze lowered at last. “I lost my parents because I was too weak to stop the poachers who killed them. But I won’t be weak again. As soon as I heard Eren roaring in the forest, I left my squad and went to find him.”

“Because you love him.”

The kid flushed as red as her scarf. “It’s not like that,” she mumbled. Yeah. Sure. “But he’s my family. I can’t let any more of my family die.”

What a simple statement, the prayer of a child. She was still so young, brutal as she was. Still so good, cold as she was. Levi had not been like her since he was four fucking years old. His gut twisted in envy at the privilege of having a soul to lose.

“Mikasa. You need to learn something right now, and keep it fucking branded onto your heart. You are going to lose people you love. Sometimes, you are going to see them heading into a fucking titan’s mouth, and you are going to have to let them go. Doesn’t mean you stop fighting for them. Doesn’t mean you don’t carry them with you. But what you love is going to kill you one day. Don’t think that it fucking won’t.”

“You’re wrong,” she said softly. “I don’t have to be like you.”

He wanted to hug her and slap the shit out of her at the same time.

_Good. Good, you lousy brat. Don’t ever be like me._

“Finished? Good. Then why don’t you head back on your own, unless you need to be fucking babysat.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting _you_. Sir.”

“If Erwin asks, tell him I’ll kick his ass if he thinks I need a bodyguard. Go.” Mikasa stood up, and as she did, he said one more thing. “Thank you for what you said back there. I know it wasn’t your mess to clean up, but…I guess that’s the nice thing about having family.”

“We’re not family, Captain Levi.” She looked at him with utter lack of feeling. “We’re blood, but not family. Eren is my family. Armin is my family. You will never be my family.”

“Message received.” He did not look at her as she walked out the door, but Levi’s mouth curled in a smile while he gazed into his cup. Little bitch. That’s exactly the line he would’ve given someone at her age.

After paying, Levi sauntered down the streets, walked in the opposite direction of the barracks. He came to the river, walked to the center of the bridge, and leaned his elbows upon the railing. Here in the near darkness, no one would think he was Humanity’s Strongest. He was just another soldier looking at the water and thinking of his own mundane, stupid life.

Well. Guess it was time.

Levi’s hands did not tremble as he took the envelope from his jacket, and as he opened it. Unfolding the letter, Levi could read by the flickering lamplight. And he could hear her voice. The letter was dated at the very end of April. A few days after he and Petra had started fucking.

_Dear Papa,_

_I said I’d write before the end of the month, and I did! Yes, it’s two days until the end, but I like to live dangerously. I did it for you! I’m just the best daughter, I know. (Don’t tell Brigitta.) As a reward for being the best daughter, whenever you have some sugared ginger root, Oruo and I would really love some. (I mean me. I would really love some. A lot. Please?)_   _:(_

Girl drew a frowny face. Of course she did.

_We’re planning another expedition beyond the walls very soon. Don’t worry, we’ll be careful, but you know we don’t need to be so scared when we’re with Captain Levi. He’s the most incredible man. Papa, you know I said how surly and grouchy he can be, but you can’t imagine how kind he is. I think most people are too afraid to get to know him, but they’re missing so much._

_You know how excited I was to be picked for his squad, but every time I see him now I’m so proud I could cry. I want to stay with him forever, doing whatever he needs. I’m going to devote my whole life to him. I know how odd that sounds, but I feel it in my bones. He needs me, I think. Or he needs all of us. I don’t think he should be alone. Nobody can see how sad he is._

_I want to devote myself to him always because he’s so good, and strong. Whenever I see him, I can see a future that no one else can even imagine. I really think he can give that to us. He makes me feel so hopeful. I’m always careful outside the walls, Papa, but when I see the captain I’m never afraid. Whatever happens, I’m exactly where I’ve always wanted to be. I’d rather live a few years like this than be an old woman with another, safer life. Of course I’m going to live a long time, don’t worry. The captain won’t let anything happen to us. He never does. I told you how he cut Oruo right out of a titan’s hand one time. We’re safe with him._

_I feel like the world’s opening up to me in ways I never could’ve dreamed, and I can’t wait to see what the future brings. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. How many people really find a purpose in their lives?_

_I can’t wait to see you and Mama after the expedition. I might have some exciting news then, so keep your fingers crossed!_

_Love you always and love you lots,_

_Pet_

He stared at the words for a long time after he’d read them. Levi did not cry, or blink. He breathed evenly. Perhaps he should drop this into the river right now, let all her wasted dreams and dead fantasies dissolve. His fingers began to open; the page began to fall.

He snatched it back up, held it against his chest. He could feel the wild beat of his heart under his fist. Then he folded the letter, slid it into the envelope, and pressed the cool paper against his forehead. If he closed his eyes and breathed, maybe he could catch the sunlit scent of her.

Where she’d always wanted to be. Crushed under a titan’s foot? Screaming in frenzied terror? Had it all been worth it, the lives she’d left broken in her wake?

Was she a little fool, or clear-sighted?

Didn’t matter. Levi didn’t need an answer tonight. He pressed his lips to the paper once, hoping no one could see, and then tucked the letter safe against his heart.

Ah, Pieter was a good man, but he was a fool. He’d taken the reminder of his daughter’s physical, dead body. Levi had a little piece of her spirit.

_Did you really die with no regrets, Petra?_

Anyone a few seconds from sudden death would wish for something else, wish for eighty years of life in a boring house with a boring job. But had he made her life so much richer before those last thirty seconds? If Levi could believe that, he would be able to sleep.

If he could believe.

_“Oi.” He kissed her awake. They were warm in his bed, the sun just peeking through the window. His cock throbbed against her silken thigh, but there wouldn’t be time for a last fuck. Petra moaned lightly as he kissed her. “Get up. You need to get back to your room before the bells go.”_

_Now that they’d returned to the barracks, they had to be more careful._

_“Yes, sir.” She returned the kiss. “After the mission?”_

_“Tonight, we’ll talk to Erwin.” He kissed her forehead._

_“Levi?” She nuzzled against him. “I want to say…you know, just in case. Just in case. I’m very happy.”_

_He took a long, slow breath._

_“I’m happy, too,” he growled. “You make me happy.”_

_Petra giggled underneath him, and they folded back into each other’s arms for a few more minutes, before the bells pulled them apart._

Levi touched his breast, heard the soft crinkle of paper. He looked back towards the barracks, where Mikasa had gone to sit with all her friends. All of them, still together. Eren and Armin, her family, still at her side. The people she would rather die than leave behind. The people she loved, a group which would never include him.

“That’s good,” he whispered. “Don’t be like me.”

And Levi thought briefly of what remained to him. Hange, and Erwin, both of them waiting to go over the plans for the final push. Erwin, the beacon in his world, the golden thread pulling him into the future. The future _she’d_ dreamed of. The wind blew through his hair, and Levi shivered. Shoving hands into his pockets, he made his dark way back to the barracks.

Back home.

Back to family.

And soon, back to Shiganshina.


End file.
